Title: Keep Me Cold
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Feedback: It's a beautiful thing! So email me already damnit!
Disclaimer: They’re all Joss’ and probably some other people but hey I’m a rebel so I play if I want damn it!
Summary: Sequel to Hot to Cold. Faith has turned against the Scoobies and after giving into Angelus he made her a vampire. They obtained the list of Potential Slayers and slaughter will begin but sooner or later they'll end up in Sunnydale. This fic coincides with The First problem on Buffy so I guess it's an Alternate Universe. Uncomplete! I'll be posting new sections as I write them.
Pairings: Faith/Angelus so far.
Category: angst and suspense I suppose.
Spoilers: Spoilers for the episodes where The First is in Sunnydale. No Angel spoilers. Sorry people I don't know the episodes so just read it.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic torture and sexuality.
Author’s Comments: Hey guys! Check me out! I'm so on top of that request for the sequel! This fic is dedicated to Jezzie who supported me, and told me the things I needed to hear and pushed me to make a sequel. I’m having a ball writing it and I don’t know that I would’ve without her requests. Also thank you for all the feedback and requests. When people email me and tell me how I really can grasp the character of Angelus or describe the way his eyes roam over a tortured body makes me feel like I might just be doing this right and I may just have a grip on this whole writing thing. Also thanks in advance to anyone who may feel the urge to email me because I suck. Please do! I love it. I wanna know why I suck or what sucks.

Leningrad, Soviet Union


The girl hurried quickly down the street anxious to get safe inside her warm home and away from the biting cold. The snow crunched under her thick heavy combat boots but her long black skirt did nothing to keep the broken snow off her bare legs. She pulled her book bag further up on her shoulder and smiled beneath her scarf and hat, she could see the sign for her street up ahead.

She smiled at a friendly neighbor who was walking down the street as she started onto her block. Suddenly her crunching boots had an echo. She turned her head quickly around to see an attractive dark haired man walking down the other side of the street. He was certainly dressed for the weather but his uncovered face showed no signs of the cold having an effect on him. For a quick moment she considered the absence of white puffs of smoke before his face and wondered if he was even breathing. This suspicion disappeared as he smiled a most dazzling smile before bringing a cigarette to his lips and exhaling a large plume of smoke sufficient to her own.

She pulled her eyes away with an awkward smile to escape his beauty and turned up the sidewalk of her comfortable frozen home. The man kept walking after entrapping her in another smile as she fumbled in her pockets for her house key. When she found it she opened the door and was hit with the sweet smell of turkey dinner on the flame. She threw down her bag and coat on the chair inside the door and stepped out of her boots.

She called out for her watcher but she didn’t answer. She stepped into the kitchen only to find it empty. “Hello?” she called wondering where Clara could have gone off too.

Her numb feet carried her to the refrigerator to search for a note on the shambled collage of important notices and family photos but despite the lack of feeling in her feet she felt the warm gooey texture soak into her thick tube socks. She looked down with that absolute fear that comes with the inside knowledge of what you’re going to find moments before you find it. She didn’t even have a chance to scream. Her killer came out of nowhere and the knife cut into her chest and made everything around her dark and surprisingly warm.

Faith pushed open the front door, which she found slightly ajar to begin with, and strolled casually into the house. Since she didn’t need an invitation she knew her lover must have finished his job. The thick smell of spilt blood was also strong supporting evidence of this. She followed the scent easily to the second room in the house after the living room, the kitchen and she saw her lover perched on the very edge of the pristine white counter with her dirty boots soiling the cabinet fronts and his sour face soiling his beauty. He flicked his cigarette into the mess beneath him on the white linoleum floor.

“Jump the gun killer?” she asked smiling down at the two women lying face down on the floor. He didn’t answer so she went further, “Can’t say it isn’t done, but it’s far from your usual work… lack’s poetry.”

He glared over at her. “What really are the odds of this?” he asked after a few moments of staring at the lives that he hadn’t had the pleasure of extinguishing.

“Pretty low champ,” she said with a smile, she leaned down and smiled, “pity… this one was really cute.”

Angelus’ glare turned even more violent and he jumped easily from his perch and stormed past her out of the house and into the snow. She knew tonight would be punishment but she couldn’t resist the stab at him and she usually liked his punishments anyway.

They found the same brutally simple destruction in Kabul, Bangkok, Melbourne, Maui, and Angelus temper continued to rise like mercury. By the time Faith suggested that they jump ahead a few destinations and cut off the killer stealing their gifts of gruesome death it was too late. All the potentials were either dead or MIA and Angelus knew there was only one place to go, one place the killer would head, and one place that would brighten up his spirits.